Episode 1
Darkness swirled surrounding him in the Alliance’s hospital room. He should have felt tired, but he wasn't. He could have used the sleep, but he wasn't getting any. Failing to convince himself he was asleep, Luke Skywalker, Rebel warrior and Jedi Knight, slowly sat up on the hospital bed. With a sigh, he grabbed the light saber lying on the night stand by the bed. His hand caressed the familiar metal hilt of the weapon. He felt overwhelmed by the thoughts and emotions the cold steel awakened in him.
This was not his light saber. It was his father's. Having his father's light saber again made him feel like his life had come full circle. It seemed impossible that all of it had happened yesterday. He'd confronted the Emperor and had almost been converted to the Dark Side. In a moment of truth, he stared at his clinched black-gloved right hand and the wires of his father's severed right mechanical hand realizing how much he'd become like his father. How he'd become just like his father if he stayed on this path he was on.
All this rose to the forefront of his perception and reality as the Emperor, exuding great pleasure, walked into the anteroom inviting him to take his father's place at his side. Flinging his weapon aside, he renounced the Dark Side for once and for all. To the Emperor, he said. "You've failed, Your Highness, I'm a Jedi like my father before me."
"So be it, Jedi," the Emperor coldly replied.
The Emperor stretched out his hands, launching bursts of lightning bolts at him. Luke had never seen such power unleashed before and wondered where it came from even though naturally it came from the Force. He was unfamiliar with such power; he had never known or heard of a Jedi possessing such power. It was just another thing Yoda and Ben had neglected to tell him; he didn’t have time to dwell on the idea or feel anything about the omission as the charged particles quickly coursed across the room and instantly coursed over his body.
Young Skywalker felt the power of the Dark Side when the electric current touched his skin. He raised his gloved right hand, deflecting the initial assault, but the Emperor's lightning was too powerful. The charged currents kept coming; he fell backwards and almost tumbled into the Death Star's exhaust shaft.
Another wave of energy crashed over him. His knees buckled and he crumbled on the floor. The Emperor stood over him, electric energy streaming endlessly from his finger tips. Current coursed through him, he writhed in agony. "You're feeble Jedi skills are no match for the power of the Dark Side," the Emperor cackled. "You'll pay the price for your lack of vision."
It was terrible. His body jerked with each jolt. His hands flailing, he hugged himself in agony as his body shook in this unebbing earthquake. He called out in anguish for someone to come to his aid. "Father."
The lightning barrage continued; his body now curled in a fetal position. Numb from the intensity of the attack and the pain, he lost track of all time and sensibility. For a brief moment the Emperor's barrage stopped. He couldn't even move. All he could do was moan in pain after being continuously tortured.
"And now, Jedi, you must die," the Emperor informed him, unleashing the electric energy on him again.
A fury of energy coursed all over his body. He groaned. This hurt bad. "Father," he pleaded in agony the unmoving Vader. "Father please!"
Although it hadn't seemed possible to him then, the Emperor's barrage increased in intensity. He wanted nothing more than to fade into the tunnel of darkness into which he was drifting. He blacked out letting himself follow the darkening tunnel that ended in warm light. The Emperor hooted in delighted triumph over his unconscious, almost lifeless body. In that moment, Vader acted. He picked up his former master who still shot electricity from his hands. With the last bit of strength he had remaining, the Dark Lord threw the Emperor into the exhaust shaft. He fell to the floor in great pain.
Alestra rushed over to Vader's side while Trisha rushed to Luke's side. "Is he dead?" Alestra said to her cousin.
Trisha knelt beside Luke's motionless body. Her two fingers touched the side of his neck. There was a faint pulse. He was barely breathing. "No, he’s alive -- barely," she replied with a note of relief in her voice. But Luke would not survive without a Jedi healing. One he couldn't give himself at least not in his current state. That was if he even knew how to perform a Jedi healing; she suspected he didn’t. Not caring about the consequences, Trisha placed her palm over his forehead and one over his chest near his heart. She closed her eyes, summoning the Force.
After a while he groaned softly. Her heart filled with joy. He'd live. Drained, Trisha pulled away her hand. He could do the rest. She crawled away from him. He could never know what she'd done.
When he came to, Luke somehow found the strength to crawl to his father's side. Alestra cradled his father in her arms, keeping him from following his master to certain death in the exhaust port. After resting a few minutes to collect their strength, the crumbling destruction of the Death Star as it was pummeled by the Alliance fleet. Sparks flickered and danced as wires severed; billows of smoke arose as fires caused by the electrical damage throughout the structure. Malfunctioning equipment producing searing heat; beams melted. Explosions shook the space station and fixtures began falling all around them. It made it absolutely necessary for them to evacuate because none of them wanted to be aboard the Death Star when the Alliance finally blew it up.
Carrying the bulking weight of his dying father on his shoulders, Luke stumbled and fell several times as the three Jedis made their way to the Empire’s space station’s docking bay filled with Imperial shuttles. His strength finally giving out, Luke had to rest the Dark Lord on the bottom of a ramp to an Imperial shuttle the threesome planned to use as their escape vehicle.
Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker looked up at his son. “Luke, help me take this mask off.” His hands fluttered slightly trying to reach for the plastic helmet he’d worn the past 20 years but was far too weak to move very much. “
Luke shook his head in refusal. “But you’ll die.”
“Nothing can stop that now,” the Sith Lord intoned somberly. “For once let me look on you with mine own eyes.”
With a few clicks and smooth motions of his head releasing the pieces of the breath mask, the young Jedi peeled away the face plates. He saw a pasty pale wrinkled face of an old man. A weak smile flickered on his lips. The piercing blue eyes penetrating him were gentle and loving. In a crackling elderly voice, Anakin Skywalker remarked. “Now go my Son leave me.”
His gloved hand rested supportively on his father’s shoulder. “No. I’ve got to save you.”
“You already have, Luke,” Anakin replied. His eyes bright and sharp locked on his son’s blue eyes. “Tell you sister you were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister you were right.” With that Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker closed his eyes.
“Father,” Luke called out. There was no answer. His father had ceased to exist. The young Jedi closed his eyes that stung with tears as he bowed his head in sorrow and grief over his loss; the Rebel attack on the Death Star had become much more intense; beams, fixtures, metal and other debris rained all around them. Some of it crushed Imperial crafts in the docking bay, bringing about the explosive or destructive damage to the remaining space crafts.
She wished she could give him time to grieve but now was scarcely the moment. With the wreckage of the space station as it fell apart, the window of safely getting out of flying out of the docking bay was closing – and fast! They had to get out of there now. Trisha’s gentle hand touched his shoulder shaking him from the poignant moment. Her fingers curled around his chin and made him look at her, so he could see the love in her eyes. She kissed his lips with a power and a passion that was real, powerful and greater than life itself. He returned the feelings with a matching ardor he wanted to hold onto but the dire moment of life and death they faced was not the one for that. Her voice was tender and caring as she said it. ““Luke, we have to go now!”
With a nod, he found the strength to pick up his father’s dead body and carried him to the medical bay where he set him on a table. Alestra stayed behind with the remains of Anakin Skywalker to say her own private goodbyes while the two Jedis raced toward the cockpit. Luke slid into the pilot seat while Trisha took the co-pilot’s chair. Working together, they flipped switches in rapid succession launching them into space as a fiery explosion destroyed the hanger bay.
Quickly they switched their signals from Imperial frequencies to Alliance ones, Trisha announced as the Death Star exploded in a wide white circle of space dust, “Five by five broadcasting over all channels and frequencies within the Alliance. The Jedis have returned and are on the way to Alliance celebrations on Endor.”
“Roger. Five by Five,” replied a familiar male Correllian voice. “This is Rogue Leader receiving your message as I streak toward Endor myself.”
His gloved hand brushed hers as he touched the comm board. “Did your proton torpedo blow up the sucker this time, Wedge?”
“Luke,” the man returned with friendly pleasure and a definite note of relief in his voice. “No, I can’t claim that one. That’s all the Falcon’s and General Calirrissan’s doing.”
“I’ll see you planet side soon.”
“Roger that,” Wedge remarked exuberantly. “I bet you have some stories to tell.” The friendship between the two men was obvious to Trisha; it reminded her of the friendship she had with Cady on Naboo.
That was an understatement, Skywalker thought, wearing a broad roguish grin as the Imperial craft streaked toward Endor. He glanced at Trisha. The smile on her lips beckoned; the unseen compassion, attraction, romantic interest and chemistry between them couldn’t be denied or resisted. In a whirlwind, the two Jedis were in each other’s arms kissing passionately. His body trembled uncontrollably; his knees nearly buckling; tears stung his eyes as grief hit him. His gloved hand and non gloved hand clutched at her shoulders, his fingers brushing the strands of her black pony tail dangling down her back. His mouth needy, desperate and urgent ravished her lips. Trisha, I…” he murmured, the affectionate notes evident in his voice but drowned by his desire as the heat and passion increased between them. He tasted her tender, gentle sweet petals pressed against his as she held him close, providing her strength and support, comforting him with her presence and love. “Shh Luke, I know. It’s okay.”
The two female Jedis had gone on ahead into the Ewok village while he attended to the funeral pyre for his father. Fire burned throughout the village, there were cartwheels, drumming on discarded Imperial helmets, horns blowing, music from wooden flutes and guitars. In addition, the celebrations included enthusiastic storytelling, conversations, dancing, hugging and kissing. Trying not to be obvious, Alestra and Trisha waited at the outskirts of the village near the clearing with a path they expected Luke to enter the village. Although she could sense him in the Force, the female Jedi from Candelaria kept periodically glancing down the dark path as if it would make Skywalker come any faster. “Patience,” Alestra teased. They both knew Luke needed time particularly with the loss he’d experienced. “Yeah, yeah,” retorted the brunette Jedi flipping her ponytail around sharply as she glanced at the clearing’s path again but there still was no Skywalker.
Leia and Han and the rest of the Alliance heroes kept drawing them into the camaraderie and party; Trisha and Alestra both kept their patient vigil, waiting for their friend and fellow Jedi. Finally they all were rewarded; they heard the sound of boots crunching rocks and twigs on the well-worn dirt path and the party turned to see a smiling Luke wearily trudging down the trail. The young Jedi stepped into the circle of light. Naturally the first to greet him with fierce hugs and kisses was his sister, Leia, followed by friendly congratulatory pats on the back along with friendly slugs in various spots on his body by his Correllian smuggler friend, Han Solo and his first mate, Chewbacca. Next he was greeted by Gen. Lando Calirrisan. The former administrator of Cloud City and gambler had a friendship of sorts ever since his confrontation with Vader on Cloud City. The two men briefly exchanged polite, warm words but then the general’s excitement grew as his longtime friends Han and Chewie appeared. Next he exchanged hugs and friendly conversation with his fellow pilot and friend, Wedge Antilles before spending a few moments talking to his faithful droids, Artoo and Threepio who were both bemused by but participating in the plethora of activities around them. Finally he made his way over to his Jedi friends; Alestra smiled at him, drifting away closer toward Leia and Han. Her time there was drawing short much like her cousin’s.
Even when he had been with his sister, Han, Wedge and his other friends, Luke’s attention and emotions were drawn toward Trisha. The Jedi from Naboo was surrounded by her cousin and their friends. He noticed her long brown hair restrained by a red ribbon. A ribbon he wanted to tug from her hair and let her brown tendrils rain in his hands. Her laughter warmed his heart. Her warm brown eyes smiling at him beckoned him.
They'd not known each other that long ... although it seemed they'd known each other forever. Despite that, there was a strong bond, undeniable attraction and unmistakable love between them. He hadn’t felt like this about another woman in a long time, not since Camie on Tatooine; he knew he was in love with Trisha Summers. He wondered if she knew about how he felt. Glancing at her across the dancing flames as their eyes met as they had a number of times that evening he had a feeling she knew; he had a feeling the feeling was mutual.
The Ewoks tried to get their Rebel friends to participate in the party, but he was too sad to indulge. He managed to slip away from the revelry. He casually leaned against a hut. In the village, Han and Leia were lovingly huddled together by the fire. In the fire light, he saw the images of his father alongside his former masters Obi-Wan and Yoda. A momentary sadness filled him.
Somehow Leia noticed his absence. She drifted away from Han, searching from him. Finding him alone, she lovingly put her arm around his waist and guided him to the fire. When Leia returned her attention to Han, he had managed to slip away again. And like before, his attention was focused on Trisha.
She’d noticed his unabashed attention. She smiled at him warmly. She politely excused herself from her friends. He had drifted to the outskirts of the Ewok village. He knew he wasn't alone. "Where are you going all by yourself?" She said softly from behind him.
He turned toward her. "Trish."
"Luke," she said warmly. "I don't think you should be alone."
"You're probably right," he agreed. Arms crossed over his chest, his stance was casual as he affectionately appraised her.
"Not much into the festivities are you, Luke?"
"Guess not," he said, smiling slowly. "Maybe it would be better if I hung around some better company."
She favored him with a smile. "Are you asking me what I think you are, Luke Skywalker?"
His eyes gently caressed the features of her face. "Am I?"
He locked his eyes with hers. He reached for her hand. He held her hand, occasionally caressing it. They looked at each other full of emotion. They didn't say a word ... only communicating in silent mental conversation. It seemed like an eternity passed.
"Luke?" She said aloud.
"Hmm?" He murmured distractedly. He desperately wanted to kiss her but he wasn’t sure it was wise to attract that kind of attention to them. What would the people he knew and loved think about a relationship between the two Jedis? If that was indeed what it was because it sure felt like one.
She turned toward him a sad, regretful look in her eyes. She didn't want to leave. She shouldn't have to tell him goodbye or to depart without him knowing how she felt about him. Knowing she loved him made leaving harder. She was going away, and she'd miss him desperately. And she'd never forget him. She hoped to the Ethereal Oneness she’d get to see him again someday.
She wondered if she'd ever feel this way for a guy again. She doubted that a man could succeed in replacing Luke's place in her heart. The sad look in her eyes meant something was wrong. "What is it, Trish?"
She smiled. "You've gotten good at that, Luke."
Embarrassed he looked away. "Trish..."
She laughed. "Don't take everything so seriously, Luke."
He apologized. "I'll work on that."
Tears filled her brown eyes. "Luke, I have to leave."
"Why?" He said with anguish in his voice.
"It's hard to explain," she said not looking at him.
“Try me,” he remarked quietly.
“I wish I could, but it’s a really long and complicated story, one I don’t completely understand myself,” she touched his face. “Trust me when I say the reason I have to leave has absolutely nothing to do with you. You’re the reason I wish I could stay.”
"Trish, please," he begged her. “I don’t know if I can take any more losses today.”
Her hands cupped his face and she tenderly pressed her lips against his. “Luke, my sweet handsome Jedi Luke.”
His mouth lingered on hers.“Let me go with you Trish.”
"Luke," she shook her head sadly. "I wish you could but you can’t. I don't know what to say."
"Neither do I," he said, gazing at her curiously. "Will I see you again, Trish?"
"I don't know. I hope so," she said as a tear slid down her cheek. "Luke, I don't want to say goodbye to you."
"Then don't."
"Luke, there's..." Her voice cracked, unable to finish her sentence.
They looked at each other. The bond and love they had was incredibly strong, real and powerful. He was reluctant to let her go. He gripped her hand tightly. "I can't stop you from going, can I?"
"I wish you could," she said touched his face. “There’s something special and strong between us Luke and it’s not going away. Ever. It’ll always be there no matter what happens in the future."
"Trish," he moved away slightly. "Wait."
Without restraint or hesitation, Luke pulled her close to him and brazenly sealed over hers passionate kissing her over and over again in the darkness. She returned the exchanges with matched ardor and then pulled away. Lightly touching his cheek, her finger stroked his face. “Hey!” Her dark eyes sparkled with pleasure as she tenderly kissed him. “You’re a pretty good kisser, Fly Boy.” So was she, he thought lips as lingered on hers until his appreciative laugh rose to the surface. Trisha lightly tugged at his right arm, picking it up and inspecting his damaged right hand. There was a teasing gleam in her eyes. “You’re a mess.”
Silently agreeing, he leaned in for another kiss but was his sister’s appearance stopped the romantic interlude. The female Jedi smiled at the Princess accompanied by her man, Han Solo; Leia nodded respectively at the Jedi who had served as a secret operative and bodyguard for her mentor, Mon Monthma for years. The young Alderaanian woman’s beautiful face crumbled with concern as she saw the searing black hole and exposed wires showing because her brother’s black glove had slid up revealing the damage to her brother’s mechanical hand. Leia cringed, pain and sorrow flashed in her dark eyes. “Luke, did this happen on the Death Star?”
“No,” he grinned, covering up the damage that meant nothing to him. “It happened when we were rescuing Han on Jabba’s sail barge.”
“And you didn’t say anything before until now?”Leia remarked appalled. She silently kicked herself for not noticing the injury earlier. Of course her brother hadn’t said anything. He’d had other things on his mind like confronting Vader, saving the galaxy and bringing about the return of the Jedi. Still, she loved her brother. He was important to her and she hated to think he was hurting and not at his best. She needed him and so did the rest of the galaxy and so they needed him at his best, in top form; he wasn’t. As a result of these thoughts, the famous Skywalker anger and impatience surfaced. There was a strong note of gentleness in her voice. “Luke!”
He just grinned and shrugged as if it were nothing and meaningless, holding Trisha’s hand in his. This wasn’t anything to worry about now. He could take care of it later. Right now he wanted to be in the company of this woman and enjoying the celebrations and camaraderie around them.
“He really should see a doctor and get that fixed,” Leia insisted. Her eyes appealed to the female Jedi. “Can’t you tell him something?”
Luke looked at Trisha amused; she smiled at him affectionately, squeezing his hands with hers. She gracefully stretched out her arm, her index finger pointing to the path. It led to a field where the Alliance was shuttling troops back to their space base near Sullust for medical treatment. “Go,” she instructed gently.
A boyish gleam flickered in his eyes and the smile hadn’t faded. He looked incredibly handsome. “But…” he protested.
“Luke.” The passionate way she said his name melted his heart. “No arguments.”
“All right, I’ll go,” he sighed. The reluctance he felt about going was obvious but he didn’t argue. He nodded and he turned toward the path to trudge the path to the Alliance landing field alone. Trisha stood there watching until she could no longer see him before compelling the magic she needed to disappear herself. When Luke had arrived at the Alliance hospital on Sullust, the halls were filled with injured Rebel personnel. Compared to some of them, his condition didn't seem as bad. Since he was so well known, the doctors offered to see him right away. He refused, insisting others with more serious injuries be treated first.
He took a seat in the lobby. The Rebel soldiers and pilots there stared at him. He shifted in the chair to hide how uncomfortable he felt. He began to feel embarrassed for being there.
With a sigh, he went to talk to the injured. He'd performed Jedi healings on those he could. One asked him why he hadn't done a Jedi healing on himself. That seemed to remind him he was a Jedi and could. He just hadn’t. He realized he'd been so busy worrying about everyone else he hadn't been too concerned about himself.
Finally it was his turn. A med tech led him into the examination room. The tech ordered him to take off all his clothes except for his underwear and put on a flimsy paper gown. Slowly he took off his black boots, socks, shirt, belt, and pants. He donned the flimsy gown and shivered in the cold room.
The doctor came in the room. "Step behind the X-ray screen please."
He complied. He closed his eyes tightly as the machine's invisible rays scanned his body. He was afraid the Emperor's lightning barrage had damaged his insides to the point no medical attention could help.
The doctor said. "What exactly did you say your problem was?"
He hesitated. How exactly was he going to explain what he'd been through? Not everyone in the galaxy believed in the Force or a Jedi Knight's abilities. He floundered. "Uh..."
The doctor scowled. "Do you mind telling me the truth, or is that too much to ask a Jedi Knight?"
"How did you know?" He stammered, stunned.
"I know who you are, Commander Skywalker, and I know what that is,” The doctor confirmed, gestured toward the exposed hilt of his light saber beneath his clothing. "Besides I know Alestra and Trisha pretty well. Anyone who has seen what those two can do would find it hard not to believe in any kind of supernatural powers. Mind telling me what really happened?"
Luke sighed. "The Emperor tried to kill me with a Force driven lightning barrage."
"You should take a look at these scans."
A wry smile twitched his lips. "I'm not sure I want to."
"I think you should because maybe you can tell me what exactly I'm looking for."
Stupefied by what the doctor's comments meant, he joined the man at his desk. The doctor showed him the scans. He saw absolutely nothing. Everything inside him looked completely healthy and normal.
"Damn you're good," the doc said impressed.
"But, I didn't," he protested with a perplexed look dominating his face.
The doctor laughed at him. "You're kidding me, right?"
"No, I haven't had time to do a Jedi healing on myself."
"Whatever you say." The doctor said to placate him. "I think you're free to go, Luke."
His mind whirled. Without doing a Jedi healing on himself, how he'd had a clean bill of health? How was that possible? He considered this interesting and intriguing puzzle. He paused momentarily shifting through a myriad of thoughts.
"Luke? Luke?" The doctor snapped his fingers in front of his face.
He snapped himself out of his contemplation. "Hmm?"
The man frowned concerned. "I think I'll keep you here one night under observation."
"But you said I was fine."
"I was wrong," the doctor said convinced. "You're suffering from post traumatic stress and the only cure for that is rest."
"I'm a Jedi, doctor, I don't need to rest."
"Well, it's either rest, which even a Jedi has to do eventually, or go for a swim in a Bacta tank for a while. It's your choice, Luke."
He really disliked Bacta treatments. He frowned. "Okay, I'll rest."
"You'd better rest and I personally don't care what kind of Jedi tricks you use to do it either. Because if you don't rest, I'm going to use whatever I have use in my medical arsenal to force a Jedi to do so," the doctor ordered sternly. "Do I make myself clear, Luke?"
"Perfectly."
"Good," the doctor said. "Get dressed and the nurse will show you to your room."
That's how he'd ended up in this hospital room for the night. He sighed and set his light saber down on the nightstand. He laid himself back down. He closed his eyes. He relaxed and felt the Force flowing through him. The powerful fatigue he felt threatened to overpower him so he let himself fall into serene flow of the universe and the entity that was part of him filling him.
**
The bluish glow of his light saber illuminated the darkness in front of him as he cautiously weaved his way through the interlocking chambers of the gray ice caverns. His tall black boots tread on the gray solid lifeless ground. He felt utterly lost as he turned another corner. He felt like he’d been walking around and around in circles, but he wasn’t sure. There was a foreboding here. Danger and darkness loomed. An evil, yet to be seen, hovered nearby. It was undeniable and powerful.
He entered an anteroom. There were numerous pods made of ice in the wall and across the floor there. His senses and skin tingled. He was on his guard. Someone or something, which was pure evil, pure Dark Side, had led him there on purpose. Was this some kind of a test? Was his enemy waiting to attack? Where was he? Who was he? He could come or be there at any moment.
Posed, Luke waited at ready, prepared for anything. A light from above targeted a dark coffin made of blocks of ice. A beautiful familiar figure was trapped inside. “Trisha?” He said in concern, rushing over to the ice pod. He pointed the tip of his light saber toward the ice to break it open to no avail. Luke’s face wrinkled in confusion. His light saber should break this. Why wasn’t it? He tried again and was unsuccessful at freeing his love from her prison.
A maniacal laugh from a disembodied figure rang throughout the chamber. It seemed familiar. Was it the Emperor’s? Or was it someone else? Was it someone he didn’t know or hadn’t met? He wasn’t sure. Your compassion will be your undoing, Skywalker, the malevolent voice warned.
“Trisha!” he shouted sitting up bolting up in a rigid seated position in the hospital bed as he came out of the vision.
“Commander Skywalker, are you okay?”
He wondered if he’d said anything; he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to worry about it. Obviously they could tell he’d had some nightmare because he was trembling terribly. He was parched. “Yeah, can I please get some water?”
The nurse brought him some water; he sipped it slowly. He managed a small smile to reassure her as the nurse stared at him worriedly. His forehead and shirt top were covered in sweat; he had been unable to calm or steady himself much after the vision he’d had. The vision he’d had been of the future. Master Yoda had told him “Always in motion is the future.” That meant it still could be changed; he needed to decide how he’d become involved; it was obvious he intended to be involved despite the consequences he had to pay for his interference and involvement. After finishing drinking the rest of the water from the cup, he seemed a little more steady and the nurse departed when he lay back down. Unable to back to sleep, Luke lay there motionless. His hand reached for his light saber on the night stand; his fist clenched around it. He loved Trisha and she was in danger. He had to get to her. She needed him. He needed her. He had to protect her. Defend her. Together they could overcome this evil from the Dark Side.
First, he had to get out of here and tell her. How could he? He didn’t know where she was or how to find her. His desperation clawed at him.
The evil laughter trickled throughout his mind repeating an earlier warning adding a new one. The cold, ominous foreboding was apparent and weighed heavily even though it was unseen and not present. The voice repeated the same warning as his vision. Skywalker. Your compassion will be your undoing. The pleased malicious laughter rang out through his mind and senses.
Luke shivered. The evil was coming and he’d have to confront it.